Pardon
by Eurral Eseret
Summary: Morgan sniffed, using his shoulder to try and casually brush away the tears that had started to form. God, he felt pathetic. Crying in front of his superior…he couldn't go any lower.


**A/N: A little one-shot about Morgan visiting Hotch in the hospital after he has been attacked by The Reaper.**

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Pardon

"_**Guilt is the source of sorrows, the avenging fiend that follows us behind with whips and stings." – Nicholas Rowe**_

Derek knew that he should have been used to the sound by now. He should be used to the tone of it, and the steady beat that it usually kept. So many times he has endured this sound. So many times he had the opportunity to familiarize himself with the idea of a life being strapped to something electronic, because they no longer have the ability to keep the life going alone.

He should be used to this, but he wasn't. Especially not this time; this was personal.

"Morgan, I know you're there." A voice called weakly through the door, causing the agent to cringe. Derek shut his eyes tight, clenching his hands into tight fists. He stayed like that for a while, debating whether or not he should leave. Maybe this was a bad time…

"Derek, please." The voice called again.

Morgan sighed, relaxing all of his muscles and slowly opening his lids. He hesitantly rounded the corner, stepping through the open door and into the room. His eyes immediately took in all the medical equipment. The IVs, the x-rays, the heart monitor that continued its rhythmic tune, reassuring Derek that his friend hadn't been killed. His eyes zeroed in on the tubes that ran along his skin, and the tape that held them in place.

He couldn't stand the sight of it. He couldn't look at the man, knowing that he was in here because of him.

Derek turned away, now focusing his attention to the clock on the wall.

Aaron Hotchner watched through tired eyes as his colleague faced away from him. He sighed, barely getting enough breath to make it audible.

"Hey…" He breathed.

Derek glanced back to him for a moment, and then quickly turned away again, shoving his hands into his front jean pockets.

"Hey." He replied.

Silence swallowed the room for a moment as the elder profiler took in the atmosphere, knowing exactly what was on the young man's mind.

"This isn't your fault." He finally said.

Derek's reaction to these words had already been predicted. It put him on edge; made him nervous…made him angry.

"_What?_" He snapped back at the injured man, tearing his eyes away from the clock and piercing a gaze straight through Aaron's eyes.

Hotch kept a straight face. Even after being stabbed nine times, and having his ex-wife and kid moved into protective custody, his face remained the emotionless statue it always was.

"This isn't your fault." He repeated, "You shouldn't blame yourself."

Morgan narrowed his eyes, taking his hands out of his pockets as if he wasn't sure what to do with them.

"Hotch…you're in here because of me." Morgan stated brokenly, "If I hadn't…"

"_What_, Derek? If you hadn't _what?_" Hotch interjected, "If you hadn't passed out when your head hit the concrete? You're right; If only you had stayed conscious long enough to give Foyet what he wanted, then it would be _you_ plugged up to all these machines…_or worse_…"

Morgan shut his eyes as he listened to the now rapid beating of Hotch's heart monitor, his hands clenching back into fists. He waited and listened for the man's breathing to steady. Silence covered the room for a long period of time while the elder profiler just continued to stare at the dark male.

"That's the way it should have happened." Derek finally murmured. "If he had…If he had killed me…he would have no reason to go after you."

Hotch looked at his companion in disbelief.

"Derek, listen to yourself. Does what you're saying really make sense?" Hotch questioned.

"Man, I don't know!" Morgan exclaimed. "I Just…I…"

Derek sighed, no longer knowing what to say. He approached Hotch's hospital bed, taking a seat at the foot of it. He reached out to grab the medical clip board off the wall, looking over everything. His eyes were drawn the red letters that read 'Aaron Hotchner L.C.'… living children. So _that's_ how Prentiss had known. They were going to put Hotch on life support.

"I thought you were dead." Morgan whispered, still staring at the clip board. Hotch remained silent. "Ever since my credentials went missing, I had to live with the idea that I was putting one of our team member's lives in danger…and when Reid told us that something had happened to you, I thought you were dead. And when I found out that you had been submitted into the hospital under my name…I knew it was my fault."

Hotch sighed, gently closing his eyes.

"Derek, why did you come here?" He asked.

Morgan sniffed, using his shoulder to try and casually brush away the tears that had started to form. God, he felt pathetic. Crying in front of his superior…he couldn't go any lower.

Hotch's face softened once he realized what was happening, and he tried to sit himself up. He groaned a little as a sharp pain ripped through his abdomen, causing the heart monitor to beep spastically. Derek jumped up, and a nurse came rushing into the room.

"Sir, I'm going to need you to leave." She said to Derek as she rushed to Hotch's side. Derek began to back out of the room slowly, fear written across his features.

"Stop!" Hotch hissed, swatting away the nurse's helping hands. "Stop; I'm fine!"

The woman glared at him. "Agent Hotchner you shouldn't be trying to support yourself so soon, it could cause internal bleeding."

"Am I bleeding internally? No." He snapped back at her in that intimidating monotone voice of his. "What happens inside my body is my business, now do you _mind?_"

The nurse stared at him incredulously for a few moments before stalking out of the room, muttering nonsense. The beeping of the heart monitor began to slow down.

Despite the former atmosphere, Morgan had finally managed to crack a smile, an action that was much more…well, _Morgan_.

"I bet the ladies love you here." He joked lightly, letting out one small chuckle.

Hotch smirked at this.

"Oh yeah; middle aged man with a full time, well-paying job, who's only kid lives with his ex-wife. I'm a natural chick-magnet." He responded, knowing that this comment wasn't sarcastic at all. He was every gold-digger's dream.

Morgan couldn't help but laugh out loud at this one, now starting to feel more like himself.

"I should probably get going…" He said after his own laughter died down, "Reid is waiting in the lobby…He wants to come in and see you."

Hotch nodded, "Alright."

Derek gave him one last smile before he headed towards the door.

"Hey Morgan." Hotch called after him.

Morgan paused, turning around in the doorway.

"Yeah?" He asked.

Aaron took the moment to look deep into his subordinate's eyes, searching for the reason of his visit, searching for what would allow him to leave with complete satisfaction.

Aaron smiled lightly, finally having found the answer.

"I forgive you."

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**A/N: A crying Derek Morgan is always worth a group "Aww!" **

**I will be making another one-shot about Reid's visit with Hotch. **

**Please Review. **


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